Letters to Shelby

by hayleynymphadora

After Rachel's tragic death, (mostly following the story line of Glee, besides Rachel's death and Shelby's relationship), Shelby Corcoran is given letters, like a diary, that Rachel has written to her throughout part of her teenage life. This story is full of angst, hurt, mourning, and love. After reading these letters, Shelby returns to Rachel's grave to answer them all.

25. Anxiety

Chapter 24: Anxiety

Shelby set the letters down for a moment, with shaky hands. She wasn't sure if she wanted to continue reading after Rachel found out, even though she'd written quite a few more times, based on the unread pile sitting in her lap.

You deserve to know the pain you caused her. It isn't going to feel good, idiot, that's why they call it pain.

She told herself, sternly, that she was the cause of Rachel's pain for a long time, and she would have to suffer the consequences of that. If she didn't read these letters she would die wondering what they said. What secrets may have been exposed, what emotions may have been conveyed. How Rachel felt towards her—even while she started working at McKinley and the two hardly said a word to each other. She had to find out through these letters, she reminded herself, because she had run out of chances. She would never get to talk to Rachel about this face to face, or try to fix anything, because Rachel was dead.

Already, Shelby had tears streaming down her face. She tried to wipe them before they went noticed by Cassie and failed, the blonde's concerned eyes glancing over at her.

"Are you alright, sweetheart?" she wondered softly.

"I don't want to read anymore." Shelby admitted, taking a deep, shaky breath. Her stomach hurt like she was going to be sick. Her heart pounded like it was going to explode and then she would be dead, too.

"You don't have to read if you don't want to, Shelby," Cassie rubbed Shelby's knee softly as she spoke. Never before had the blonde felt the need to convey such sympathy and love in her tone. "No one is forcing you to read if you don't want to."

"I have to," Shelby whispered back. "I have to read what she has to say to me. Even after she found out who I was. After I pushed her—away. I have to and I will." Tears blurred her vision and splashed down onto a few of the letters. She was never going to be able to read these letters if she couldn't see. The woman pulled herself together. She'd made her bed and now she had to sleep in it.

Cassie kept her hand stroking Shelby's leg for moral support. Shelby appreciated the unspoken comfort—the sense that she wasn't alone, even though this felt like the end of the world.

Slowly, steadily, Shelby lifted the next letter and started reading.

"Dear Shelby…"